


Always Tugging At Your Sleeve

by Lila_fowler



Series: Who I'm Supposed to Be [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, One Tree Hill plot points Beacon Hills style, Post-Series, not always a fairytale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 03:39:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5032321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lila_fowler/pseuds/Lila_fowler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He pauses mid-sentence, giving her those big doe eyes that make her stomach lurch.  “Why’d you leave me?”</p><p><i>Oh Stiles.</i>  “Things change.” </p><p>--</p><p>He wanted a fairytale.  Lydia just wanted him to stop hurting.  But there's never a magical happy ending, is there?  It's fine.  Stiles never expected there would be, at least not with Lydia.</p><p>__</p><p>An exploration of unrelated one-shots and drabbles, with One Tree Hill plot points remixed into the Beacon Hills world.  Because who wouldn't have Lydia as a lovely hybrid of Brooke, Peyton, and Hailey?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always Tugging At Your Sleeve

From her perch on his bed, Lydia can see that Stiles Stilinski looks pretty friggin’ nervous. 

“So what’s she like? Is she pretty?”

He stops, pausing the desperate combing through his closet. "Somehow those questions don’t really seem appropriate, especially coming from you.“

Lydia shrugs. "Wear the blue shirt, that one there, under your hand. You look really nice in blue.”

His eyes slide closed. "I wore blue on our first real date.“

 _> Shit._ "Well then when in doubt, casual. How about one of your terrible hoodies?”

_ _

When he gets back a few hours later, she attacks. "Sooooo?“

“So what?” His words are gruff, flippant. 

“So how’d it go? Was she fun? Hilarious? Did you take her for sushi and drinks and keep the biting sarcasm to a minimum?”

He looks away. "She wasn’t you.“ 

_ _ _ _ 

He pauses mid-sentence, giving her those big doe eyes that make her stomach lurch. “Why’d you leave me?”

 _Oh Stiles._ “Things change.” 

_ _ _ _

“Hey sweetheart?”

“Yeah Stiles?”

He’s scratching his head now, hair going wild under his hands. “How’d you like to stay over? Like old times?”

Lydia smiles, eyes sparkling. "I think that’s up to you, now isn’t it?”

“What if I offer When Harry Met Sally and popcorn?“

"Make it Sleepless in Seattle and you got a deal.”

“I’ll take anything as long as it isn’t The Notebook.”

_ _ _ _

“Happy New Year, sweetheart.”

“Ugh, really Stilinksi?” She’s frowning, legs draped across his lap on the couch. "Anyway, why are you spending the night in with me and New Year’s Rockin’ Eve? I’m so boring and lame. You should be out having fun! Meeting new people, whatever.“ Her comment makes him physically recoil. "Oh god. I’m sorry. I just…”

“Forgot?”

Lydia sighs. "How could I ever forget? You were wearing that dumb red plaid shirt.“

"And you had on that little black miniskirt.”

She rolls her eyes. "Thank god Parrish ditched me.“

"Thank god Scott was late.”

“The only person I knew at the party was you.” 

“You threw yourself at me when it hit midnight.”

“And as I recall, you liked it."

_ _ _ _ 

The riding crop in her hand WHACKS against her thigh. She looks down. Black garters, red lacy bra and panty set, six-inch heels, slick red lips.

She smacks the crop again, and Stiles winces slightly. Her mouth quirks. “Little much, dontcha think?”

His response is quick, with a wicked edge to it. "Never.“

He has her pushed up against the wall in two seconds, big hands gripping her hips hard. She kisses him, filthy, biting his bottom lip and gasping against his mouth when his long fingers start to explore and twist. “Desk, right?”

He nods. “How’d you know?”

“I always know what you want.” 

He moves quickly, pulling her along with him so her ass is pressed hard to his groin. When he bends her forward, arching over the hard wooden desktop, Lydia sees stars.

_ _

In his bed afterwards, Stiles is blissed out, utterly happy and spent. His breathing is still fast and hard, heart stuttering in his chest. She props herself up on an elbow. 

"We should really stop doing this, you know.”

“You’re terrible at pillow talk. Were you always this bad? Oh wait, that’s right, before me they usually didn’t even have five minutes before you were kicking them out the door”

“I mean it Stiles. This isn’t healthy.”

The crushed look on his face makes her ache. He rolls away. "So then go.“ 

"I’m sor-”

“Don’t.” 

And so she goes, waiting until 2 AM to wander back into his room. A few hours is usually enough time for him to sulk. There’s a battered copy of Little Women tucked under her arm. He’s wide awake, staring at the ceiling fan. 

“You know why I said what I did before, Stiles. You’re only prolonging the inevitable with all of this. I’m worried about you.” Silence. "C’mon. Tell me what you’re thinking.“

"You know. You always know.” 

Lydia holds up the book in her hand with an apologetic shrug, smiling when Stiles relents after just a second, scootching over to make room for her on the bed. And so she starts to read, leaning against the headboard.

 _Beth lay a minute thinking, and then said in her quiet way, “I don’t know how to express myself, and shouldn’t try to anyone but you, because I can’t speak out except to my Jo. I only mean to say that I have had a feeling that it never was intended that I should live long. I’m not like the rest of you. I never made any plans about what I’d do when I grew up. I never thought of being married, as you all did. I couldn’t seem to imagine myself anything but stupid little Beth, trotting about at home, of no use anywhere but there. I never wanted to go away, and the hard part now is the leaving you all. I’m not afraid, but it seems as if I should be homesick for you even in heaven.”_  
_ _ _ _

Her name is Rachel. This is their third date. When Lydia appears at Stiles’ door this time, he looks immediately sheepish. “Does Scott keep letting you in? Man, he really is the worst roommate.”

“Oh please, stop that right now. I like her. She’s beautiful and smart. Perfect. Almost as perfect as me.”

He smiles wistfully. "One day, sweetheart.“

Lydia squints at him. "Not for a LONG time, Stilinski. Not for a very long time. Now go. Have fun.”

_ _

When he gets back, he’s positively giddy. Lydia’s pleased as punch, flopping on the bed as he starts unbuttoning his shirt. "Told ya she was perfect.“

A pause. His response is quiet. "I….I really like her.” 

A knock at the door. Scott. He pokes his head in. "Hey! How’d it go with Rachel?“

Stiles ducks his head. "Third date. It went - it went really good.”

Scott whistles. "Dude, three dates, that’s pretty serious.“ He looks around. "She’s not…she’s not here, is she? Thought I heard you talking to someone.”

Stiles coughs. ‘’Oh yeah! That. Uh. Yeah! Just me on the phone, my dad called, wanted to catch up. Sorry if I was too loud.“

"Not at all. Anyway, just wanted to see what’s up.” Scott pauses in the doorway for a moment. "Hey…look. I know it’s not really my place to say anything, but it’s good to see you getting back out there. I know how hard it is, and you know, you saw me struggling after Allison…“ Scott trails off, trying to collect his thoughts. "Really fucks with your head. But it’s good to see you turning a corner, you know? We’ve dealt with so much death in our lives but I know… I just know Lydia would have wanted you to be happy.”

“Yeah. I- thanks dude." Stiles’ voice is tight. Scott nods, resolute, and quickly ducks back out into the hallway, door closing behind him. 

Brotherly feels moment over. 

Lydia emerges back from the shadows. "He’s right, you know. All I want is for you to be happy.”

Stiles can’t meet her eyes.

_ _ _ _

“Just go. Please. Just stop this. You’re killing me, Lydia.” His voice cracks as he speaks her name. 

She throws up your hands. "Then YOU just stop! It’s not like I’m here by my own volition.“

"You’re dead.” 

She gasps. “WHAT? I had NO idea!“

"That’s not fucking funny.”

“Of course I’m dead you idiot. A lot of supernatural stuff happens in this town Stiles, but me... I’m not….You know I’m not really here. I’m just all in your mind. Sometimes a memory. Sometimes a fantasy. I couldn’t come back, no matter how badly we both wanted it. So you want me to stop? Then STOP picturing me here.”

He hiccups, wet and thick. “I…I can’t. I need you, Lyds. I can’t do this without you.” 

_ _ _ _ 

She hears the fight - who could miss it? They’ve been dating for three weeks, although she haven’t been around for much of it. But tonight, well….Tonight is different. 

This is Stiles at the edge, his voice shaking like it does when he’s pushed too far. He’s clawing, desperate now not to fall down the slope he’s backed himself to the edge of. Rachel leaves with the door practically rattling off its hinges. 

She finds Stiles at his desk char, hands drumming wildly on the arm rests, eyes brimming with tears. She perches on the edge of the desk, giving him a few moments to calm down before finally speaking. 

“She asked about me, didn’t she.”

“It’s none of her business. What we had - that’s….that’s between us.”

His phone rings. "That’s her, right? So answer it. Talk to her. Open up a little. Take a chance, Stiles.“ He shakes his head. “If you let someone else in, you won’t forget me. You won’t erase me.” 

"You don’t know that. You don’t. Sometimes- sometimes I can’t see you anymore. I forget things about you, and I’m afraid… I’m already forgetting your voice and how you smelled and how you used to look at me…the way you felt in my arms. Every day, I’m forgetting more and…" The phone goes silent. A single tear tracks its way down his cheek, the rest pooling along his lashes. He completely chokes up, swiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. “We were supposed to have more time.” 

“And you still do. You have so much life left ahead of you, and I can’t bear the thought of you being alone.” 

“I don’t want to lose us. I’ll always love you, Lyds.”

“We were….we were pretty special, huh?” Her lips ghost over his. “You were my everything, even before I was able to admit it to myself. You always will be. But now…it’s time to let go, Stiles. It’ll be okay. I love you. I’ll always be with you. Promise.” 

Lydia reaches out, a hand pressing against Stiles’ cheek. His eyes close almost reflexively as he leans into her touch.

And then, she’s gone.


End file.
